The Big Sneeze
By Khaled Diab
Hay-fever
season is coming early this year. It's time for sufferers to ready for battle -
but finding effective relief is no sneezing matter.
May 2008
Experts have warned that, owing to the mild winter,
hay fever season is set to start earlier
than usual this year. But I already sensed that. You could say that I
have a nose for these things!
Last weekend was gloriously sunny over here. As is the
habit in these grey and wet northern climes, I and a guest visiting from abroad
melted into the milling crowds savouring the sun-tickled outdoors.
Under the surface of this hopeful scene of rebirth
after the barrenness of winter, beneath the gradual blossoming of spring in
which nature turns over a new leaf and people crawl out of hibernation to shed
their winter skins, while hemlines get shorter as the days get longer, there
lurked something more ominous. My eyes and nose were warning me that soon I
would not be able to enjoy the good weather – and even the bad would be but a
milder ordeal – with such casual bliss.
Hay
fever, aka allergic rhinitis, is a
hypersensitivity to pollen from various plants and, depending on individual
sensitivity, can cause anything from mild irritation in the eyes and a runny
nose, to streaming eyes, sneezing fits, maddening itching, and asthma-like
respiratory problems. In fact, researchers are becoming increasingly convinced
that hay fever and asthma are related.
For many non-sufferers, hay fever does not sound like
a big deal. While it generally does not have serious health consequences, the
weeks of unrelenting irritation and torment can almost drive sufferers out of
their minds.
From the end of May to mid-July are
my usual season. Being a rather chronic sufferer, I am regularly seized
by uncontrollable sneezing fits which actually cause my muscles to ache, not to
mention the swollen, itching, streaming eyes, and sleepless nights. On bad
days, coherent thought, already tricky, becomes nigh impossible. This makes
work harder, especially if you are high on anti-histamines, steroid sprays and
cortisone inhalers.
And, for those cursed with this unglamorous ailment,
conversation, interrupted by sneezes and nose blowing, becomes a rather
unattractive affair. Under the bough of a tree, before a newly sprung thought
in June can travel from your mind to pollinate the ear of your lover, it is
invariably nipped in the bud by nasal dyslexia. The sublime, in a frustrating
comedy of errors, plunges into the slimy cesspit of your hanky.
Dry spells and heat waves are the worst, which leaves
sufferers dreaming of sunshine but wishing for rain. During the Big Sneeze, a
trip to the country is no simple walk-in-the-park, and parks turn into houses
of unbelievable horror: each blade of grass tickles with the gentleness of a
sword and pastures are minefields of live ammo. Sometimes, it is not
inconceivable to consider gouging out your eyes or ripping off your nose.
Hay fever is also tough on the partners of sufferers.
I often feel sorry for my wife when my sneezing causes an earthquake in bed, or
when my sleeplessness and sniffling disturb her slumber. On bad nights, I move
to another part of the house to grant her some peace and quiet.
Despite the number of sufferers – estimated at 12
million in the
Nevertheless, it is striking to observe that, in this
age of technological and scientific prowess, full comprehension of hay fever,
like the common cold, eludes us. We have ventured into outer space, restored
sight to the nearly blind, and are on the verge of creating micro black
holes, yet no one knows (nose?) how to stop the pollen-powered Big Sneeze.
Instead, what we have is a wide spectrum of pills,
nasal sprays and eye drops to alleviate the symptoms. And
tips for lifestyle changes that can minimise suffering. The height of
hay fever chic are wrap-around sun glasses (goggles are even better) to shield
against some of the pollen. Surgical masks are also in, as are prototype nasal
filters which could let your nostrils flare up in that ohh,
so sexy way. Caution: can knock innocent bystanders out at 10 paces if worn
when pollen has already got up your nose.
Those who would rather not make such outlandish
fashion statements are left with the option of shutting themselves away in a
hermetically sealed chamber in the mornings and early evenings, during the
highest pollen counts. More appealing tactics I’ve tried is to go on holiday to
unaffected parts of the world to escape part of the season or to head for the
seaside for occasional relief. At the end of the day, for those like me who
want to get on with life as normally as possible, the only option is to sneeze
and bear with it.
Every year, I wishfully hope that I will outgrow my
allergy. And every year it returns with a vengeance. I am sure I’m not alone in
wishing that, one day, hay fever sufferers will be able to enjoy summer without
this painful thorn in its side.
This column appeared
in The Guardian Unlimited’s
Comment is Free section on 4
May 2008. Read the related
discussion.
ã2008 K. Diab. Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website is the
copyright of Khaled Diab.